A Million Stories

[ a million stories ]

Late last Friday night, residents of Buckingham Street in West Philly heard a strange, high-pitched squealing. Four or five neighbors, all youngish men, ventured outside and found that a raccoon had been caught in a cage trap in the alleyway between two houses.

After some minutes of discussion, a few resolved to set the animal free. "I'm just scared to give it the push and run," said one, brandishing a long metal pole and eyeing the mechanism that kept the trap door shut, "because I don't know how fast these things is. But I feel sorry for it, man."

Finally, the entire trap was dragged onto the sidewalk and opened. The raccoon dashed across the street and was gone.

That's when the owner of the house (who declined to give her name) emerged, furious. "You let it loose?" she demanded.

A debate ensued. The young men were apologetic, but thought the woman should understand their perspective: They had seen a screaming animal and wanted to help. Besides, they argued, they thought the trap was meant for cats. Indeed, the block had recently been peppered with fliers advertising a feline-rescue operation by Philly's Project M.E.O.W., which would use humane traps to catch stray cats.

The woman, however, was not persuaded by their case. "Didn't it ever occur to you that someone was trying to catch the raccoon?" she demanded.

(More on the Night of the Raccoons on The Clog.)

It wasn't really fair. The Red Team, sponsored by Red's Creative Cuts, was bigger, stronger, faster. In fact, there were a bunch of pros on the squad. Asked how he picked his team, coach Keenan Muhammad just said, "These are the five best guys in the city. They all get paid to play basketball."

The Black Team, meanwhile, was the home team: a bunch of guys who play at the Rumph Recreation Center in Mount Airy. Which is not to say they were slouches. Rumph, formerly the Mallery Rec Center, has hosted some of Philly's best basketball talent over the years.

It also, in 2005, was the place where a Philly ballplayer named Daniel Rumph collapsed and died from a heart condition. There were no defibrillators in the gym, and no one there was trained in CPR.

The Red and Black teams were playing in the championship game of the fourth annual "Save the Next Bright Star" tournament, held in Rumph's honor. Some of the best ballers in the city participate, says organizer Michael Morak, both to support the cause and to play "real basketball" (the team with Memphis Grizzly Hakim Warrick on it was eliminated in an earlier round). Teaming with corporate sponsors, the tournament has put 12 defibrillators, plus programs for training and maintenance, in rec centers around the city.

The baking-hot gym was packed with Black Team supporters. Red's Mark Tyndale (a Temple alum) controlled the game from the jump, but with some scrappy play and timely shooting, Black hung around. The game was tied at halftime, and then, thanks to a late double-clutch 3 and two free throws by Black's Sharif Bray, tied at the end of regulation.

"Your son's going to be the hero tonight," someone said to Bray's mom in the crowd.

"He hopes," she smiled.

In overtime, Red pulled away: Tyndale just went to the hoop, again and again, scoring or drawing a foul each time. The crowd, disappointed, began to file out before the buzzer even sounded. It was OK, though. The game was still awesome.